


Words are all I have to take your heart away

by StealingTheSun (SunMars)



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Lots of alcohol, M/M, Prompt Fill, Romance, Yutae are bff and flatmates, implied Jaedo, implied yurene (?, kinda fluff I think, musician taeyong, other ncts member appear too, paast dotae, soccer player johnny, some rv girls appear, taeyong and mark are brothers, this is just word vomit i have to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 12:05:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14790203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunMars/pseuds/StealingTheSun
Summary: “Why would people expend so much money to watch a game when they can invest in something more useful? Okay, there are hot sweaty dudes in a match, but all they do is run after a ball. Senseless if you ask me. So, the answer is no, I do not love soccer.”Prompt: Taeyong, who doesn't care about sports, goes on a couple of dates with a handsome boy. Days later he recognizes his date face on TV.





	Words are all I have to take your heart away

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [NCTprompts_V](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/NCTprompts_V) collection. 



> I had so much fun writing this, so thanks a lot to the prompter for such a great prompt, i hope i made justice to it.
> 
> For some reason, this is settled in UK, don't ask why.
> 
> This is just some unbeta'ed word vomit, idk how is it that long.

 

It all started a year ago when he had to move with Yuta —his best friend. _It’s temporary_ he said back then, red puffy eyes and tears falling onto his cheeks, while entering the flat dragging two big suitcases and a broken heart with him. His four years boyfriend had broken up with him, the so perfect, loving and once loyal Doyoung broke up with him because he loved another man. Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so much if it was another reason, but Doyoung had another person in his life; _I’m sorry but I don’t love you anymore_ , he said, like it wasn’t something personal, in a very casual tone like he was talking to one of his costumers in the book store ( _I’m sorry but we don’t have the book you’re looking for_ ) and not to Taeyong. His boyfriend. The one he had promised the world to once. And although he had told Taeyong so many excuses such as that it wasn’t his fault he thought that maybe it was. He thought that if only he had paid more attention maybe Doyoung wouldn’t have cheated on him, or at least he could have noticed when his lover stopped loving him.

“You can have the flat,” Doyoung said as if that could be some sort of consolation to Taeyong.

He had huffed offended and said. “Fuck you, Kim Doyoung. Fuck you and fuck the flat.”

So that’s how he ends living with Yuta for a pair of weeks, weeks soon turning into months and then into a year. And It’s not like he hasn’t tried to move out from Yuta’s to a place that he can call his own, he did, but didn’t last a single night being alone; the silence is always too unbearable for him so he always go back to his friend.

Living with Yuta has his drawbacks, the man owns a Sports bar and his flat is in the upper floor of said bar. At first it was really hard to get some sleep, or some concentration —since he worked from home—, with all the noise from the people down there. He would sincerely rather loud music banging through the walls instead of yelling about matches, goals and everything else (things that he clearly didn’t new anything about).

But also there are some perks on it, Yuta and him know each other since teenagers, they get along very well, he doesn’t mind having him; —he can even say that Yuta loves having him as a flatmate (“It reminds me our college years,” he usually says with a bright smile)—. They both cook well, they have a good teamwork, Yuta doesn’t want to get into his pants (really important) and among all the other stuff, Yuta owns a Bar (he knows he said that this is a drawback, but this has some perks during special occasions). There’s alcohol in a bar, and alcohol is always useful in situations like heartbreaks (Yuta had to stop him from drowning himself in alcohol during his spite) or when you fucktard ex-boyfriend, who cheated on you, sends you a fucking email asking how the fuck are you, like if he never fucking cheated on you, and fucking inviting you to his fucking wedding with the fucking asshole who he cheated you with. (See? Perks).

And that is the reason of why Taeyong is drinking like there’s no tomorrow, sobbing like a three year old and cursing like the twenty-six he is, while his _oh so dear best friend_ tries to comfort him.

After a year one would think that he is over Doyoung, and he really, really, _reaaally_ is over him, but he feels angry, he feels offended, he feels betrayed and mostly hurt. He spent four years of his life with the other thinking that maybe Doyoung was the one he would spend the rest of his life with, and never talked about marriage with him because he knew that Doyoung didn’t want to get married (although that never was a problem in Taeyong’s mind to be with him _forever_ ), but the truth is, in fact, that Doyoung never wanted to marry him.

“Why he wouldn’t want to marry me?” Taeyong asks in a sob, his head resting on his hand and his gaze lost in somewhere between the glass on his other hand and the table. Yuta on his left caresses his hair softly, and he might be getting sleepy from it. “What’s wrong with me? What does this _Jeffrey_ has that I don’t?”

“There is nothing wrong with you, honey,” Yuta states, looking at the wall clock for a brief moment. Is almost time to open the bar, there is a crowd waiting outside since there’s an important soccer match today. He really needs to get Taeyong out of there, for the sake of his business and his friend. “Anyone would marry you.”

“I would,” Lucas, the bartender says with a kind smile, trying to take the glass from Taeyong’s hands but the latter holds it like his life depends on it. “If I didn’t have a boyfriend, of course.”

“See? I would marry you too, Tae”.

“First, no thanks, you’re a kid,” the chestnut haired man says pointing at Lucas, which gives him the chance to take the glass away from him, then he turns to Yuta. “And you’re too straight for it, but thank you, bud. You’re the _bestest_ friend in the world, I love you.”

“I love you too, man. Now let’s go, you need to sleep.”

“But I don’t wanna,” he yawns and lifts a finger to point out; “Because I yawned, doesn’t mean I’m sleepy.”

Yuta laughs at that and takes Taeyong arm to help him walk, the man doesn’t put a fight and let’s himself be dragged upstairs while thanking Lucas for being the greatest barman and listener ever, said boy just shakes his head and goes to back his work, nodding when Yuta gestures him to the clock.

“Do you think that someone would really want to marry me?” Taeyong asks when they enter the flat, his face pressed in the skin of Yuta’s neck so his question goes muffled but the Japanese still catches it.

“Of course, Tae. Doyoung is a jerk, y’know, he never deserved you and I’m sure you will find a man, who will love you so much, and you’ll be happy with him, but it’ll take some time.”

“How much? I’m getting old!” he whines, tripping slightly with the carpet and almost making both of them fall. “My clock is ticking!”

“You’re barely 26, you have a whole decade before your clock starts ticking,” Yuta responses giggling, imitating the way Taeyong sing-sang the last word.

“Why he would want me, M-E, on his wedding? I’m his ex, it will be weird.”

“Because he’s a big fat jerk, that is. Now, you need to sober up before sleep; otherwise you’ll have a huge headache when you wake up,”

Taeyong nods slowly, letting go of his body, stumbling a bit in his spot before walking to the bathroom, yelling at Yuta to prepare some coffee while he takes a shower. The Japanese man laughs at how much his friend resembles a turtle when he is drunk. When Taeyong gets to the kitchen, hair wet and changed into pajamas, the coffee in his mug is warm and Yuta is almost finishing his.

“Sorry, I fell asleep in the shower,” he says, plopping onto the chair and holding his mug with two hands.

“I kinda figured that,” the other says getting up, leaving his own mug in the sink. “I need to go back down, work’s calling”.

“It’s okay, I’ll try to sleep. I love you, dude”.

“Love you too,” Yuta kisses his forehead before leaving the kitchen. Taeyong drinks his coffee in almost one shot, deciding to daze into sleep before the noise in the bar doesn’t let him to.

 

 

He wakes up almost seven hours later and by the noise coming from the wooden floor and the red and pink lights sneaking through his window and illuminating his dark room, he can say that the bar is still open. His head hurts, although it’s still bearable, and his mouth feels dry; also he is hungry. So he gets up from bed and walks lazily to the kitchen, choosing to prepare himself a sandwich since he is still too sleepy to cook a proper meal.

While he waits for the toaster to, well, toast the bread he hears the main door opening and he turns to the right side, perking from his spot to the door.

“Yuta? Is that you?” he asks.

But Yuta doesn’t appears, instead there is a tall man with tanned skin and long brown hair. Said man turns to face Taeyong with a curious gaze and he freezes from a moment because, _Damn, that’s a nice face_ , but then he feels more awake because even if that stranger is hot, is still a stranger in his flat. It had happened many times before and it not always ended well.  Fuck Yuta and his habit of leaving the door unlocked.

Taeyong is quick, grabbing a carving knife from the cabinet and holding it in front on him in a defensive pose, ready to attack this person in case he decides to do something against him.

“Leave,” he commands in a serious tone, sending a deathly glare to the man.

“Wow! Hey man, no need to be like this. I was looking for the bathroom,” the stranger says, holding his hands in the air as to show he is unarmed. “Sorry.”

“It’s the other door,” he points out without changing his stiff position.

“Okay, thank you, and… I think your bread is done,” the man says pointing at the toaster, the smell of something burning spreading through the air.

Taeyong curses out loud, leaving the knife in the counter before turning the toaster off and taking the almost burned slices of bread out. Taeyong sighs and takes another two slices of bread and the butter, a little giggle from his back interrupts him.

“You still here?” he questions, not even looking at the stranger. “I thought you needed to pee.”

The stranger giggles once again. “Nah, actually I just need some water, some mate spilled his mojito over me”.

“Oh that’s sad, you should leave and clean yourself soon then,” he says, faking the pity in his voice. “The bathroom is pretty nice; we even have hot water there.”

“Oh, that’s cool,” the other says, followed by a long silence filling the room. When the sound of the door closing doesn’t come to Taeyong’s ears he turns once again finding the man in the very same spot than before, looking around cautiously. “What a nice place you got here.”

“I know, thank you. Would you leave now?”

“Are you going to eat that?” he asks, ignoring the question and pointing to the almost-burned slices of bread sitting in a plate.

“Excuse me?” Taeyong scoffs.

“My name is Jo-” he hesitates for a moment and then continues. “You how am I, right?”

“Should I?” Taeyong asks, quirking a brow nonchalantly.

“Well, It’s Johnny. I’m pretty sure you’ve heard about me.”

“Not at all, now leave.”

“What’s yours?”

Taeyong groans out loud, putting the spoon against the counter with too much strength and spilling butter over the surface, and looks at Johnny with a frown. It’s too late for him to be doing this, he doesn’t know if he rather those stinky drunk men or this precious and obnoxious man. He just want to eat his goddamn sandwich and go back to sleep (also he wants to finish the song he’s writing and forget about Kim Doyoung, but priorities are first).

“If I tell you my name would you leave?” he asks, grabbing the carving knife from where he left it before and walks towards Johnny with a stoic expression.

“Well, I guess,” the tall man says, walking backwards as he gets closer.

“You guess?”

Johnny sighs defeated, shifting his gaze from his face and knife on his hand nervously, “I will”.

Taeyong walks a few steps more and when he is sure that this Johnny is standing in the corridor, he smiles and says “My name is _Emma_ ,” and then closes the door.

 

 

Yuta finds him sitting in the living room’s floor at five am; he’s playing a melody in a keyboard and then scribbling something in a notebook. The Japanese man greets him with a sleepy voice and heads straight to the kitchen, Taeyong tells him that there’s a Sandwich in the microwave without looking and continues on what’s he is doing. A few minutes later, his friend joins him in the floor, resting the head on his shoulder without saying a word.

“You forgot to lock the door,” Taeyong says, pressing a key repeatedly. “ _Again_ ”.

“Sorry,” Yuta sighs and bites his sandwich. “Someone woke you up?”

“Fortunately no, I was making food and then the most annoying guy entered and no matter how many times I asked him to leave, he didn’t” Taeyong huffs and rolls his eyes by remembering what happened earlier. “why is the bar’s bathroom upstairs again?”

“Because I needed the space down there,” Yuta sights a scratches the back of his head. “This is like the third time this month, so sorry, man.”

“No, it’s okay… I mean, it’s not because he could have been one of those drunk bastards but, hey! At least there’s no vomit in the entrance this time… I don’t think he was even drunk nor tipsy, but still, you need to lock the door.”

Yuta sits straight and lifts a brow at him, swallowing before speaking. “If he wasn’t drunk, why he would refuse to leave?”   

“I don’t know! He was just… looking around y’know with this curious look,” the chestnut haired man does a gesture with his hands and then shrugs, a little smile tugging the corner of his lips. “He even introduced himself, I think his name was Jason, or… Jimmy?”

“Jeffrey maybe?” Yuta offers and laughs at the deathly glare that Taeyong sends him. “Just joking! Don’t you think that maybe he tried to be nice with you and then you shoved him off?”

Taeyong snorts and shakes his head. “Who in heaven would be “nice” at bloody 3am? I mean, any other time of the day I would have tried to be “nice” with him too, he was damn hot!”

“Oh!” Yuta’s eyes widen comically as he sits straight and hits Taeyong in the shoulder, showing a happy expression; “speaking of hot men, you won’t believe this…”

“You suddenly realized that you’re gay,”

“No! _The Pats_ visited my bar; they were here, in my bar, drinking my alcohol, sitting in my chairs… in my bar!”

“I do the same almost every Friday and you never get this happy”.

“They’re the _St. Patrick’s Athletic_ , Tae,” Yuta says as it is obvious, but he doesn’t really get it. “It’s a soccer team from Dublin.”

“You’re telling me that you’re this hyped for an _Irish_ soccer team visiting your bar?”

“I would be this happy if it were the _Chelsea_ or the _Liverpool_ , you know that.”

“Those are English teams?” Taeyong asks confused and Yuta nods patiently.

“Like I was saying, _The Pats,_ were here. Lillian Kôhler’s husband plays with them, and she’s a goddess… The husband of a goddess visited my bar”.

“I can’t argue against that, but I am your best friend.”

“No, you don’t get it,” the younger changes his position, kneeling in front of his friend. Then he proceeds to explain slowly, “They’re soccer’ players, I get to see you every day and I just get to see them on TV. I’m so happy, I feel so realized… I even asked for a picture.”

Then his friend takes his phone out of his jean’s pocket and starts showing him enough pictures to make a whole album. He says the name of the players as he passes every picture, but after _Carragher, Gattuso_ and _Ivarov_ leave his friend’s mouth, he doesn’t get any more names and just nods along to what the other says. By the time Yuta starts whining about not asking some player for a picture the sun has set high in the sky, illuminating the room with a warm orange light.

“I’m going to sleep” Yuta says standing up from the floor, ruffling his hair before walking through the hall to his room. “Please wake me up at noon.”

“Yes sir!” Taeyong shouts back, his eyes already back on the notebook and his fingers on the keys.

 

 

Between music sheets, melodies and lyrics is easy for Taeyong to forget about the weird dude that entered his flat last night. He wakes his friend by noon, banging his fist against the wooden door a couple of times before going back to the kitchen where the lunch is almost done. He has finished the song he was previously writing and that left him with such a bright mood; he even allows himself to sing the tunes of said song and dance along with it while he grills some vegetables to eat.

Yuta, otherwise, is not feeling as light as him (despite being only a few hours since he was so, so very happy about some soccer dudes drinking his alcohol in his bar and all that), when Taeyong asks what happened, the brunette starts whining about Joy, one of the waitresses, being sick oh so suddenly and how they’re being so busy lately and how everything is going to be a mess without her helping with the costumers.

“Tae…” Yuta whines, dragging out the last vowel. Taeyong looks at Yuta and says nothing, makes his face as blank as it can get. “Can you-” 

“Hell no,” Taeyong says immediately, he knows Yuta very well and he knows what does that mean.

“Please”.

“No, no and no. And don’t you dare to pull that face on me _again_.”

“What face?”

“That face. That lost puppy face of yours,” Taeyong accuses.

As if he has summoned, the said “lost puppy face” appears in Yuta’s expression, the younger bats his eyelashes and pouts, tugging at Taeyong’s shirt with too much strength. It wasn’t the first time Yuta asked Taeyong to work with him in order to replace some other of his employees that are sick or have an emergency, and even with all the disasters that occurred before (disasters that are better not to mention), he keeps on asking for his help. And despite saying no at first, Taeyong always ends helping him.

“Ask Lucas’ boyfriend,” he offers, serving the vegetables in both plates and ignoring Yuta’s childish behavior. “Little Damien is always so willing to help.”

“Hell no, Donghyuck broke all of my glasses the last time he helped.”

“I break your glasses all the time too.”

“Yes, but at least I don’t have to pay you.”

Well, _that’s a point_. Yuta moans his name out loud once again, sounding like some kicked dog and Taeyong groans, rolling his eyes so hard that it hurts. Yuta is Yuta and somehow he can never say _no_ to him. Before he can say that is okay and he will help Yuta, the latter is already clinging from his neck, hugging him and yelling in his ear about how such a great friend he is.

“This will be the last time, I swear to God”.

“Oh, yes, sure”.

They both know that it’ll be not.

 

 

 

Many hours later, Taeyong finds himself moping spilled beer and maybe vodka from the bar’s floor. It’s 2 in the morning already, and there are only a few costumers sitting in a corner, still celebrating the victory of his favorite team. The shift had been really tiring, they opened earlier since there was a match settled at 5 in the afternoon and another one at 8 in the night and he has been really busy bringing beer jars to the costumers and trying, and failing, to not break any of them (maybe a big amount of the spilled beer on the floor was because of him dropping said jars).

Most of the times he helps Yuta working at the bar aren’t that bad; he is a good cleaner, and is good being a cashier too. He can even help in the kitchen, but being a waiter is the worst. He is always willing to help his friend in whatever Yuta needs, whatever that doesn’t includes being a waiter. Tonight, is an exception, despite his lack of confidence to do the job, and Taeil mocking him for the majority of the time, Taeyong did quite well so far. He successfully served some tables, broke only 4 (or maybe 5) glasses (and 3 jars), and even received helpful tips. His self-confidence has gotten a bit higher, he can say.

“Tae, I’ll be in the back,” Yuta says patting his back. “Irene and I will do the stock check”.

“Sure, and I’m a great waiter,” Taeyong says ironically earning a laugh from the rest of the staff. Irene’s face goes red and Yuta shrugs, a devilish grin on his face. “Just behave kids.”

“I will not do something that you wouldn’t.”

“I wouldn’t make out in the stock room to begin with,” he points out, sticking his tongue to the younger.

“Right, you rather bathrooms,” Yuta laughs out loud and takes the girl’s hand. “What happened to my friend? You need to get that stick out of your ass, Tae.”

“I don’t have a stick in my ass,” he complains with a scoff, still laughing at his friend who is walking backwards dragging Irene to the back door.

“No, but you wish!”

The rest of the staff giggles once again and Taeyong just rolls his eyes, exhaling some air before going back to the wet floor. In the corner, Lucas is talking to the last costumers in the bar, asking politely for them to leave, while Taeil and Wendy get the cash machine done. Taeyong kneels down when he finds a broken glass under a table, cautious hands taking the bigger broken pieces before standing up and throwing them into the trash can. He takes a broom and a dustpan and goes back to the same table to sweep the remaining glass when he sees a man entering the bar calmly, hands in the pockets of his jackets, curious eyes wandering around the place.

Taeyong stays in his place for a few seconds, watching the man walk around seemingly in search of something. He drops the dustpan and stands up, he grasps the broom in his hand tightly, walking over and trying to muster up an air of authority.

“We’re closed,” he says cordially, putting a smile on his face when the other raises his eyes to him. This young man’s dressed in some sportive clothes; black joggers, and black hoodie and a shirt that maybe Taeyong recognizes from a soccer team (don’t ask which, he is not sure). His long dark hair is wet, falling graciously onto his face, and when the man raises an eyebrow Taeyong thinks that he knows his face. _Oh hey! That’s Jimmy from last night_ , his mind supplies.

“I can see that,” the other says returning the smile, and looks around one more time before adding. “I actually came for you.”

Taeyong raises an eyebrow trying to keep his stoic composure, but the little smile tugging his lips breaks his façade. “At this hour?”

“I was busy, y’know,” Jimmy says shrugging, Taeyong narrows his eyes at him because really, he doesn’t know.

“I’m busy too, as you may see, so please, _Jimmy,_ you should leave.”

“It’s Johnny.”

“Oh well, whatever. Leave,” he motions vaguely at the door with one hand, the other is still holding the broom.

“Is it a thing of yours being this rude all the time?”

“It’s a charm.”

Johnny laughs at that and nods before turning to a table, he puts his bag over it and starts looking for something. Taeyong huffs one more time and looks around for help, Lucas has managed to get the men out of the bar but now seems busy in a phone call and, Taeil and Wendy are more entertained looking at Johnny with heart eyes. He motions to them, mouthing a “ _help”_ but they decide to shake their heads; Wendy is motioning a lot of phrases and gestures with her hands, making hard for Taeyong to understand.

Johnny stands straight before he can read a word from the girl and Taeyong turns to look right at his face, studying him and trying to not show any emotion. The man looks maybe around Taeyong’s age, possibly even a little older. He is gigantic, no matter from where you see it; tall, with broad shoulders and big torso. If Taeyong wasn’t so busy trying to shoo him out, he could ask his number and maybe a date.

“Do you work here?” Johnny asks suddenly, and Taeyong snorts as if he said something funny. “You don’t work here.”

“Not really”.

“But you live upstairs,” is not a question, he knows it and although he wants to deny it, it wouldn’t make sense since this man has already see him in his kitchen wearing pajamas. “Listen, _Emma_ , I’ll be in the city for a few days and I think you’re hot even with your Harry Potter pajamas, so if you want to go out sometime… Call me”.

Taeyong can’t help but gasp silently because, _that giant hot dude just read his mind_. Johnny holds a piece of paper in front of him waiting for Taeyong to take it, when he doesn’t, he takes Taeyong’s free hand and puts the paper there before walking out the bar (he says goodbye to Taeil and Wendy and they giggle at him). Taeyong stays there holding on to his broom and staring at the door, exhaling all the air on his lungs.

“This just happened?” he asks to the girls, eyebrows raised.

“You’re such a lucky bastard,” Wendy says, shaking her head slightly. “You know who he is, right?”

“If you’re not going to call him, can you give me his number?” Taeil says grinning, making the girl’s last question go unheard.

Taeyong looks at the numbers written on the paper and shakes his head, smiling to himself.

 

 

When Yuta comes back with Irene, both of them looking quite messy, Taeil is the first one to tell him about what happened with that mysterious and hot stranger against all the protests of a very red Taeyong. He hears no end of it for the rest of the night.

 

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

 

For five days straight, Taeyong ignores the fact that there is a phone number written on paper which is lying is some part of his nightstand. He is really busy with his work; writing a song for a new chocolate bar and a new mall downtown. But that doesn’t stop him from thinking about Johnny whenever his mind gets a break from work related stuff. Yuta seems to notice how often Taeyong spaces out during random times and being the little shit that he is, he teases him with no end. All full of smirks and knowing looks that Taeyong makes sure to erase with hard hits on his face with a cushion.

“You seem to have something on your mind lately,” Yuta says one night. They’re at their flat watching a movie, but Taeyong can’t even tell what the movie is about because he is too busy texting his little brother about his upcoming visit.

“Do I?” Taeyong straightens up and looks at Yuta who’s sprawled out on the sofa, balancing a bowl of sweet popcorn on his chest.

“Yep. Something or someone,” Yuta smirks. Taeyong dismisses Yuta with a slap on the other’s thigh and turns his attention back to his phone. The Japanese puts the bowl in the coffee table before straighten himself up, patting Taeyong’s legs rather excitedly. “Why don’t you call him?”

“Him who?”

“Him as the sexy stranger who gave you his number,” the other says, and when Taeyong pays no attention to him, he pinches him in the thigh. “Call him.”

“Why should I?”

“Because he is hot, you’re single and deserve to get laid,” Yuta reasons, listing everything with his fingers. “It’s been a while since you got screwed and we both know it, besides he can be a nice guy and maybe you both can do more than fucking.”

Taeyong looks at Yuta as if he is insane and shakes his head, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. “Definitely not.”

“Why not? You weren’t against one night stands before.”

His friend’s words are lingering in his brain, he takes one more look at the brunette and the other is smirking at him, showing his expression of _“You know I’m right”._ Taeyong sighs and decides that Yuta is, maybe, right this time. He hates it. He hates how weak he is against Yuta and how the younger always brings up the sluttiest part of himself because, now he is really considering the idea of fucking this random stranger, because he does needs (and wants) to get laid. And Johnny is hot as fuck. And Yuta’s right, again, by saying that maybe they can get to do more than fucking, after all Johnny’s the guy that intruded his flat at three in the morning, and came back the next day just to give him his phone number.. It sounds kinda romantic, book-alike if he thinks about it that way. As if he is the protagonist of some Federico Moccia book, waiting for his _Hache_ to take him three miles above the sky. Well, that’s ridiculous, let’s pretend he didn’t think about it.

“I hate you,” Taeyong mutters with a sigh. Yuta smiles and claps because he knows he won this.

He hurries to his bedroom, looking for that piece of paper on his nightstand and going back to the living room when he finds it. He sits cross-legged in front of Yuta, who give him his phone wearing a smile’s bigger that Cheshire Cat’s, and proceeds to type the numbers in the device.

“I don’t think I can,” Taeyong panics just after pressing the call button and hands the phone to Yuta. “Talk you to him”.

“Why would I say? He gave the number to you, you talk to him!” Yuta hushes, handing the phone back to Taeyong.

“But I don’t know what to say, oh my god, this is a mistak-”

_“Hello?”_

He drops his phone onto the floor by the sudden voice filling the air ( _since when the call is on speaker mode?_ ), and looks down at the device as if it would burn his skin by touching it. Yuta is the one who grabs it and looks at him with a serious face that Taeyong rarely gets to see. The person on the phone asks something that he doesn’t catch, and after taking some deep breaths, Taeyong takes the phone from Yuta’s hands.

“Hi, this is uhm… Johnny?” he mumbles quietly.

_“Yes, this is a Johnny, who is this?”_

“I…” he hesitates for a second before clearing his throat. “This is _Emma._ ”

Yuta snorts at that, and Taeyong kicks him in the chest to keep him silent. The line goes silent for a whole minute, Taeyong sends a panicked look to Yuta and the latter just mouths a “breathe”, before Johnny speaks again.

_“Oh, oh. I was starting to think that you would never call.”_

“I think I changed my mind,” Taeyong winces at how awkward he sounds.

_“I see, so…”_

“So…”

_“When do you want to meet?”_

“Meet?”

 _“I gave you my number in favor to go out with you and, I’ll be really honest, I’ve been waiting for your call all these days dear_ Emma, _so I assume you’re calling to accept my invitation”._

The so straight-forward sentence startles Taeyong a little bit, he lifts his eyes to Yuta, asking silently for help. The brunette just giggles, clearly entertained with his conversation with Johnny, and motions for him to keep talking.

“Taeyong,” he spurts quietly, “the name is Taeyong.”

 _“You’re Korean?”_ Johnny asks sounding really surprised, and when Taeyong continues he adds. _“You don’t look Korean.”_

“How I’m supposed to take that?”

 _“No! It’s… ahg, forget it, I’m Korean too… err, well, half Korean, I think,”_ Johnny exhales and Taeyong giggles at his rant. _“Well, not think, My mom is American and my Dad is Korean, so I’m truly Korean but I’ve never been to Korea and I will stop talking now.”_

“You _really_ don’t look Korean.”

_“I know.”_

There is a short pause, silence filling the air and Taeyong can’t help but stare at his phone waiting for Johnny to say something, but he doesn’t. Beside him Yuta groans out loud and takes his phone from the coffee table and starts typing furiously on it. **_THE DATE_** the phone screen shows when his friend, literally, presses the phone on his face.

“What about Friday night?” he proposes sounding quite insecure. “For the, uhm date? Is it a date? No, you called it a _go out_ , damn I’m a disaster, just forget that I said date.”

 ** _Stop being weird_** Yuta writes on his phone. Taeyong mouth an “I can’t” to him.

_“Yes, yes… uhm, of course is it a date and, yes… Friday night is perfect, so…”_

“Okay, that’s settled, text me the details. Goodbye.”

Taeyong ends the call before Johnny can even say a word and drops the phone on the couch before falling dramatically to the floor, covering his face with his hands and exhaling all the air on his lungs. He moves a few fingers out of his left eyes to look at his friend when Yuta kicks him in the leg.

“Dude,” his friend starts, munching on popcorn and shaking his head. “You’re awkward as fuck.”

 

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

As soon as the idea that he has a date with a stranger gets into his brain, because is a real fact, he starts regretting it. And with the passing of the days the anxiety on his gut is growing and growing, and he considers calling Johnny and telling him that he can’t go to the date and he is truly sorry.

Yuta doesn’t let him and hides his phone from him most of the time.

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

It’s Friday night and Johnny and Taeyong are walking through London streets side by side. It’s not so late and the city is pretty alive. Cars are zooming through on the highway and there are a consider amount of people walking on the sidewalk. The night air is cold as they walk along and there’s an awkward feeling (he wonders if he’s the only one who notices) that Taeyong wants to lessen between them. He stays quiet.

Johnny has picked him up at his flat, all gorgeously dressed with flowers in hand. Luckily, Yuta was very busy with his business to intervene in the situation and get to know the hot stranger (his words not Taeyong’s, although he also believe it) he was going out with. Taeyong knows that if Yuta have had the time to talk with Johnny, the air between them would be more awkward (and they would be still at the flat too). The taller has explained that since he is in the country for job’s matters exclusively he doesn’t have a car to move through the city. Taeyong owns a Vespa but as he doesn’t has any spare helmet and it’s been raining a lot lately, both decide that it’s better to call a cab when they get to need it and walk instead.

 

 

“This is nice,” Johnny says, breaking their silence. Taeyong blinks at him, playing with the hem of his scarf. “It’s been a really long time since I did this, you know?” Johnny continues.

“Me too,” Taeyong merely replies. “Wait, did what?”

The blackhaired one laughs. “Dating.”

“Oh, well, It’s been a long time for me too.”

“Why? You’re very pretty,” Johnny states and Taeyong feels his face hotter. “I kinda imagined you as the heartbreaker one.”

“I should be the one saying that.”

“Nah, don’t think so. I’m more of the brokenhearted team.”

Taeyong laughs bitterly at how that resembles his own state, and earns a confused look from the taller, he shakes his head and offers a tiny smile and Johnny hums in response. He can’t help but feel really nervous, he is obviously psychically attracted to this man, although he finds him rather obnoxious, but is really a long time since he went on a date. He had a relationship of four years and then a whole year without taking a chance to even flirt with anyone. Now there’s Johnny next to him, all good looking and gentle, and makes Taeyong’s heart leaps and do somersaults, pounding and pounding whenever he steals a glance at him.

 “So,” Taeyong starts again, clearing his throat, trying to shed away the awkwardness, “where are we going?”

“As you already know, I’m a kinda foreigner in here so I asked for help and found a very nice Korean restaurant, since we’re both Koreans I thought that it would be nice to eat there and, I don’t know,” he does some gestures with the hands, a frown on his face while he tries to think a word. Then he shrugs and exhales. “I’ve only tried Kimchi once and I didn’t like it, my mom is a really bad cook.”

Taeyong laughs. “Then we shouldn’t be going to a restaurant, it’s not the same if it’s cooked by foreigners,” he clarifies, slowing down his pace as the taller does the same. “I’m a pretty good cook y’know, we could have had dinner at my place”

The look on Johnny’s face when he looks at him is breathtaking, then he says “Maybe you should cook for me next time, I promise to be a good assistant,” and Taeyong tries to ignore the unsaid meaning of _next time_.

“Maybe,” he mumbles back. There’s warmth spreading across his cheeks and he doesn’t trust himself to look at the other.

 

The place Johnny has chosen, nevertheless, is very pretty and looks like one of those restaurants back in Korea. Taeyong talks to the hostess and the waitress in Korean (hoping for them to actually speak the language —they do), which grants them a nice table by the corner and a bigger amount of meat when they get served. Johnny looks at him with big eyes and smile and Taeyong feels kinda overwhelmed by it.

“Is there something on my face?” he asks blinking a few times and unconsciously wiping his face.

“No, it’s just that you’re Korean is very good, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“I’m Korean-Canadian, but lived in Seoul for a long time.”

“And how’d you ended in London?”

Taeyong hesitates for a moment. “I was young and stupid I guess,” when Johnny lifts a brow at him, he continues. “I followed my ex-boyfriend here, but it’s not that bad, the city is precious, the people are nice, my best friend also lives here, he’s the owner of the bar, and I have a very good job, so... I’m good.”

“What do you do?” Johnny counters.

“I do music for commercials, it’s very simple. I don’t know if you know that song for the Dreamy Chewing Gum?”

“That one with the _Ch-Ch-Ch-Chewing Gum?_ ” Johnny sing-songs and Taeyong nods, hiding his smile behind the back of his hand. “Oh my god, I hate you. I couldn’t take that out of my head for days!” Johnny complains with a laugh at the end and Taeyong shrugs, a self-sufficient smile on his face.

“Anyways, what do you do?”

Johnny lifts a brow at him skeptically. “Sport business?”

“And?”

“I… play? I imagined that you would know how I am since you have this sports’ bar under your flat and that…”

“Oh, well, I don’t know, I’m not an actual fan or well, not a fan at all. Sports don’t make really sense to me, I mean, what’s the point of making everything a competition? Swimming for example, that’s fun, just enjoy it and not try to see who’s best or faster!” he huffs, shaking his head slightly missing the amused look in Johnny’s face. “The only sport I know is dancing, sorry not sorry.”

“And what about soccer? Everyone loves soccer.”

Taeyong groans and wrinkles his nose. “That’s the worst. I mean, there’s a lot of money invested in soccer, even when there are other things more important that deserve that money, things like science, children, hunger,” he lists with his fingers and shrugs sincerely. “Why would people expend so much money to watch a game when they can invest in something more useful? Okay, there are hot sweaty dudes in a match, but all they do is run after a ball. Senseless if you ask me. So, the answer is no, I do not _love_ soccer.”

“Well, that’s a very detailed opinion.”

“I hope you don’t get offended by it.”

Johnny shakes his head and takes a sip from his water. “Not at all, I respect that.” 

 

The waitress takes that exact moment to return, dismissing all the possibly awkwardness between them with their food. The rest of the date goes pretty well; they laugh and talk a lot. It’s raining when they get out of the restaurant, and although the taxi it’s supposed to drive first Taeyong home and then Johnny, the both end at Johnny’s hotel room cuddling in a couch, drinking wine and talking until the sun rises.

 

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

 

Growing closer to Johnny happens as naturally as breathing. It’s effortless and it feels right despite how awkward Taeyong is around him. The elder’s noisy and mocking personality amuses Taeyong, although still gives him some headaches for rolling his eyes too hard. They text and call each other frequently and go out a few more times when Johnny goes back to the city. (Yuta has taken the habit of calling him lover bird by it).

Their relationship is pretty normal considering the facts, and as they haven’t settled a label for it, Taeyong focuses in not thinking about the feelings blossoming inside him that are much more puzzling than those which a simple friendship (with benefits) would imply.

Whatever it is they have going on is nice and easy and Taeyong tries to not take it for granted (or grow accustomed to it —even though this is really hard). They become closer and more intimate each time. It makes Taeyong happy even when he can’t entirely dismiss that little part of him who wants more.

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

 

“Finally,” Yuta says one morning, when Taeyong appears in their front door wearing a big smile and a couple of hickeys on his neck. “I’m so proud. Now, tell me how it was.”

 

 

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

 

"Oh, look at that," Yuta says. It's yet another night at his bar with Taeyong helping him. This time, Irene’s sick. He points at the big tv on the wall that’s showing some sports show that Taeyong doesn’t care about. Still he takes a quick peek to the screen and let him correct his words; it is a show about sport gossip. "The _parrot Seo_ has a boyfriend."

The images in the tv show a two guys hugging each other; or that is what is supposed to be. The pictures have a really low quality, and were clearly taken during night so it’s kind of hard to differentiate whoever is on them.

“It could be a girl, from here you can’t tell the difference, it looks like two bumps anyway,” Taeyong says, his attention going back to his phone and his chat with Johnny.

“Nah, Seo is gay, so it must be a boy. He dated Horan once, I totally shipped them,” the Japanese exhales, and shoves a handful of peanuts to his mouth. “So sad the photos doesn’t show who is the lucky bastard.”

Taeyong huffs amused and stares at Yuta with a look of disbelief, Yuta keeps on eating peanuts and notices Taeyong’s gaze just a couple of seconds after.

“What?” Yuta's talking with his mouth full of food. "The man is fucking hot, whoever he is hooking up with _is_ a lucky bastard."

“Okay, sure.”

 

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

 

“You should take me to Ireland with you someday,” Taeyong spurts suddenly, earning a big smile from Johnny.

It’s early in the morning and they’re cuddling in bed since Johnny doesn’t want to let Taeyong go. (“It’s raining cats and dogs out there,” he had said when Taeyong tried to leave the bed.) Johnny asks something about Taeyong’s free time with curious eyes that definitely don't make his heart race and he responds with a lazy mumble. Johnny's long hair is sticking out in all directions and that’s all he can pay attention to. He looks adorable. Taeyong really wants to braid his hair. He doesn’t and instead kisses Johnny interrupting him mid-sentence.

“You’re being extra touchy today,” Johnny states beaming against his mouth. Taeyong feels like a teenage girl, he really does and he doesn’t deny it.

“Are you complaining?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

Johnny‘s right hand slides from his back up to his neck, and curls around the nape so carefully, gentle like he always do. He leans forward so slowly, making sure to kiss Taeyong on the cheeks before meeting his mouth. It’s a sweet kiss, soft and slow, Taeyong’s toes curling, his hands fisting Johnny’s shirt and his eyes shutting automatically.

When Johnny pulls away, it’s with dark, dazed eyes and a shiny wet mouth.

Taeyong barely let him catch his breath before pulling him closer once again, his hands traveling through Johnny’s hair, shifting his position so the taller is now above him, pressing him into the mattress. And there is also something else pressing onto Taeyong’s thigh. He moans quietly when the elder takes his wet kisses from his mouth to his neck.

And then his cellphone starts ringing.

“Don’t answer,” Johnny mutters, hot breath against his skin.

“It could be important, no one calls at this hour,” he responds, stretching his arm towards the night stand to grab his phone.

When he sees his little brother’ name on the screen everything takes place in his mind. He courses out loud and pushes Johnny out of him in order to sit down and take the call, hoping that Mark isn’t at the airport yet.

 _“Hi, hyung. We’re at the airport and we can’t find you,”_ his brother says immediately. Taeyong curses one more time. _“You forgot.”_

“I did, I’m sorry, Mark,” he says, slapping Johnny’s hands that are trying to sneak into his pants. “I’ll text you the flat address and I’ll see you there.”

_“There? Where are you?”_

Taeyong shuts his eyes, regretting his election of words and continues. “I’ll tell you later.”

He ends the call and gets up from bed, going straight to where his clothes landed last night. Johnny whines and tries to get him back with no success. Taeyong explains the situation to him and although he says he has to leave as fast as he can, Johnny’ doesn’t let him to.

 

He arrives home two hours later, finding Mark, Jaemin (his brother-in-law) and Yuta talking animatedly in the living room.

 

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

 

Taeyong doesn't have to look at Mark to know that he's being interrogated. Taeyong wonders if he was this irritating when he did the same with Mark back when he started going out with Jaemin. (Even though he wants to believe his brother’s relationship started more innocent than his.)

 “What's your deal with this Johnny, anyway?”

Taeyong's eyes don't leave the kimchi spaghetti when he replies with a calm voice. “There's no deal. We’re sort of dating. Stop annoying me and grab some plates.”

Mark scoffs but stands up to grab the cutlery. “Yuta told me everything already,” he retorts.

“So why are you asking, then?”

“You never mentioned him.”

“I didn’t think I should,” he sighs and turns, facing his brother with a frown. “I told you, we’re been going out and-”

“Having sex?” Mark interrupts. Taeyong’s eyes widen and he chokes on his spit. “I’m 21, hyung. I know what sex is.”

“I know you know, but don’t want to know that you know. You’re my little brother.”

“I’m not that little,” the younger complains.

“You want to play this game?” Taeyong quirks an eyebrow, challenging Mark. “Well, as you may know I bottom, and let me tell you that his dick is-”

“Hyung, shut up now!” Mark yells quickly and puts the plates on the counter. His face is definitely red and Taeyong smiles to himself before turning back to the stove. “I did not want to know that.”

“You started.”

“I haven’t met the guy yet! Can you believe it?!” Yuta yells from the living room. Taeyong really want this conversation to be over, but his brother doesn’t seem like he is going to stop any time soon (and his flat mate is not helping either).

“Do you like him?”

“Well, I do, otherwise I wouldn’t keep seeing him.”

“Do you want to pursue a relationship with him?”

 _He does,_ but he doesn’t admit that out loud. “I don’t know, I’ve only met him for a month.”

“A month and you fucked with him?”

Taeyong shrugs while his attention goes back to the food. “What can I say? I’m a slut.”

“Hyung, I don’t want to know, really.”

“As I said, you started. Stop asking if you don’t want to know.”

Food is ready, so Taeyong serves a big amount of Kimchi spaghetti in everyone’s plate and with Mark help; he brings them over to the living room where Yuta and Jaemin are. Whilst Yuta is on one of the couch, Jaemin’s sitting comfortably on the floor, both of them watching a soccer match. Mark joins his boyfriend on the floor and Taeyong pushes Yuta’s legs down to sit, handing his friend the food.

“Can we watch other thing? You know I’m not into soccer,” Taeyong whines, rolling spaghetti on his fork.

“Wait a minute, Johnny Seo is about to kick a penalty,” Yuta says, mouth already stuffed with food. “Look at that man; I would definitely be gay for him”

Yuta nods while saying this and he's patting Taeyong's head with his right hand in order to make look at the tv. Jaemin nods too, muttering something that he doesn’t catch because his mind is stuck in the name that just went out from his friend mouth.

It could be a simple coincidence, he tells himself. Johnny Seo is a pretty common name.

But when he looks at the tv he soon realizes that is not and the beautiful man he has been dating the past month is the same one that kicks the white and black ball and hits a goal.

“He is Johnny,” Taeyong mutters, when the camera man focuses the man in question.

Yuta hears it as a question, so he says “Yes, he was here that day when the _Pats_ showed up. I told you that I was upset because I couldn’t ask him for a picture.”

“What a coincidence,” Jaemin laughs pointing at the tv. “Your boyfriend’s name is Johnny too, right? Is him hot too?”

“Is him,” Is all what comes from his mouth, his face blank still staring at the screen. “He _is_ my Johnny.”

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

 

“You never told me you were dating a soccer player! You traitor!”

Taeyong opens and closes his mouth trying to find the words. “I didn’t know he was a soccer player!”

“Hyung, you didn’t ask? You’ve been meeting him for a month!”

“He said he was in the sport business and I’m sorry if I didn’t ask further,” Taeyong yells exasperated. “He looks more like a basketball player to me.”

“You have to bring him over.”

“Can I have a photo?”

“Shut up, Jaemin. I’m having a crisis here.”

 

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

 

“And how exactly you will get him to notice you? If you haven’t noticed, there are like two thousand people in here,” Yuta says while they wait in line to enter the stadium.

“I don’t know, I’ll call him and tell that I’m here,” he tries insecurely and plays with the green and white scarf that Yuta gave him to _‘support his boyfriend’s team’._

“Go on then, before the game starts.”

Taeyong nods and takes his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, dialing Johnny’s number before pressing the device against his ear. There’s a lot of noise bubbling outside the stadium while the people slowly gets in; he can’t actually believe that he agreed to attend a soccer match with Yuta.

 _The Pats_ versus _The Bohs_ at the Dalymount Park Stadium in Dublin. Bloody Dublin. Johnny’s team is the first one and apparently has being doing really well in the season (Yuta explained that to him during their way from London to Dublin, but he had barely catch a thing between all the information), well enough to get a good position in the championship and classify to the semifinals.

For some reason (“Cowardice” Yuta says in his mind), he hasn’t told Johnny yet about knowing that he’s a soccer player, he just found out two days ago and he still so embarrassed, his mind playing again and again all the things he said to Johnny about soccer the first time they went out. And the day before Yuta appeared in their flat with two tickets for the next St Patrick’s’ match saying that they would go and watch it and that he wouldn’t take a no for response. So here they are, outside the stadium waiting to get in (Back home, Jaemin and Mark are in a date that he hopes doesn’t end like he is imagining and Taeil and Lucas are in charge of the bar).

“He doesn’t pick,” Taeyong mumbles with a frown, calling Johnny once again. When the mailbox voice gets to his ear, he ends the call and follows Yuta to the entrance, since it’s their turn to enter.

“Text him then,” Yuta says, adjusting the hat on his head. “Say something like Good luck on your match, then the next time he calls you’ll have to talk about him being a footballer.”

Taeyong nods and does what he is being told. He takes a picture of himself, making sure that the scarf is clearly shown, and writes a **_«Go Pats! I’ll be cheering for you!»_** before shoving his phone back to his pocket, as he follows the security men instructions to get to the bleachers. Yuta is jumping as he walks, looking like a little kid with a sugary hype. His friend has a big hat with a shamrock clover on it and his face is painted with white and green, Taeyong though it was a bit excessive but other people are looking worse than him.

 “They sell alcohol in here?” he asks Yuta when they get to their seats. “I don’t think I can survive an hour and half of this without it.”

“Yes, we just have to look for…” his friend looks around as he talks and then points out a man with a tray filled with big jars of beer. “There it is! Hey! Sir!”

Said man approaches them and Taeyong ends buying three jars of beer, one for Yuta and two for himself, asking the seller to keep bringing jars to them. To his side there is a man and his son, they both talk to him animatedly about the match.

“I’m pretty sure the Pats will win,” he says before sipping his beer. “What do you think, sung?”

“The Bohemians are pretty good too, but they have no chances,” the blonde kid says, stealing a sip from his father’s beer. “I’m Jisung and this is my Dad.”

“I’m Taeyong, this is my friend Yuta,” he introduces with a smile and turns to the field when the commentator starts talking through the speakers.

They’re really close to the field; he can even smell the grass from there. Yuta is talking to Jisung and his dad about things he doesn’t understand and Taeyong is regretting being there. He doesn’t like soccer, he doesn’t understand the game and honestly he can just wait for Johnny to have a free spot in his schedule and meet him and tell him that he is sorry for insulting his job. It’s easier that way, because even with them sitting at 2 meters away from the field the chances of Johnny noticing him are more than low.

 

His friend points at the players that are entering the stadium, and Taeyong tries to distinguish Johnny as both teams get lined in the middle of the field. Then the national anthem fills the whole stadium through the speakers, he and Yuta stand up in a signal of respect, staying calm whilst the rest of the people sings happily to the anthem.

He spots Johnny between the White and Green dressed men, his back reading Johnny Seo with the number 9 in shining Black. His eyes don’t leave him even when the game starts.

“Johnny is a Midfielder, so he has to run a lot,” Yuta says after 15 minutes, noticing how lost Taeyong is. They’re at their second round of beer by now. “He has to steal the ball and make sure to open the way for the forwards.”

“He can’t hit goals?”

“He can, but the forwards are way livelier for that.” He points at Johnny, who is running with the ball and then passes the ball to other guy who passes the ball once again to another man and this tries to hit the goal. The goalkeeper is faster and catches the ball before it can enter. “It’s all about team work.”

 

As the match goes by and Taeyong keeps on swallowing beer like it was just water, he becomes more active in the cheering part although he still doesn’t understand most of the game. He jumps, claps, yells and dances whenever the Pats do something that’s worth it (He even yelled a “That’s my boyfriend!” when Johnny hit a goal during the last minutes of the first time), and complains when the other team hit a goal as well or faked being tackled by one of Johnny’s teammates (“My brother acts better than you!”, “He didn’t even touched him!”, “He threw himself to the floor! That’s not fair!”).

 

When the game ends, The Bohemians losing 5-8 against St Patrick, Taeyong is more than tipsy, holding himself onto his friend and Jisung whilst they go through the stairs to get out of the stadium. They’re singing a chant very loudly along with other fanatics and if it wasn’t for his phone vibrating on his pocket he wouldn’t have noticed that he is receiving a call.

“Hello?” he says picking the call. The **_«_** _The Pats are ready to kick some Hoops asses_ ** _»_** chant sounding in the background.  

 _“You’re really here?”_ he hears. That’s the voice his brain recognizes as Johnny, and he smiles screaming to Yuta’s ear that Johnny is calling him.

“Yep. I traveled all the way from London just to see you today. You did really good, babe,” he says dragging his words. “I couldn’t understand most of it, but Yuta says you’re good and I believe him. He knows a lot about this.”

_“Are you both here?”_

“Mhm, Yuta even cried with the game. And I made a new friend too! His name is Mason, but he rather using his Korean name, which is Jisung. He’s half Korean like us!”

_“Where are you right now?”_

 Taeyong looks around and asks Yuta about where they are going; the night has fallen above them already and he is really sure that they’ll need a cab. His friend says that they’re heading to their hotel and Taeyong repeats that to Johnny.

_“I’ll pay you a visit later, okay? Tell Yuta to look after your drunken ass for a while.”_

“Okay, babe. See you in a bit; bring me ice cream, please.”

_“Okay, love.”_

When Johnny ends the call, Taeyong turns to Yuta; his eyes glassy and a pout on his lips. He starts sobbing as they get into Jisung’s dad car who has offered them a ride to their hotel.

“What happened darling?” Yuta asks, hugging Taeyong and running his fingers through the other’s hair. He know very well how sensitive Taeyong can get when drunk.

“He called me love, and he’s buying me ice cream,” the chestnut haired man sobs.

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“I know. I think I love him.”

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

 

His head is still fuzzy from the alcohol he drank before, and he’s feeling kind of thirsty so he really needs to get up to grab water, but can’t make himself out of the bed just yet. He stretches languidly and enjoys the texture of the clean hotel sheets that smell like lavender. Taeyong likes lavender.  The bed is soft and warm, big enough to have him and maybe two people more, and he rolls over only to collide with something solid and warm. Maybe Yuta decided to sneak on to his bed.

“Yuta?” he mumbles sleepily, prying one eye open. Instead of the auburn hair color Yuta has, he finds a long black hair along with a face that’s really familiar to him.

And _Oh!_ , that’s Johnny beside him.

“Wrong answer,” The taller says throwing an arm around his waist, holding him closer. “Did I wake you up?”

“Not really,” Taeyong responds, nuzzling Johnny’s neck with his nose, his eyes closed once again. “What time is it?”

“Almost three in the morning, I guess. Ice cream is on the fridge.”

“Thank you.”

They go silent after that and it’s easy for Taeyong to drift into unconsciousness once again, with Johnny by his side, holding him tight. When he wakes up again, the sun is sneaking through the window, he has a big bloody headache and Johnny’s warm body is still pressed against him; he’s hugging Taeyong from behind, his palms pressed on to Taeyong’s belly and his breath falling over Taeyong’s neck.

Being careful to not wake the other up, he untangles himself from the embrace and gets up, going immediately to the bathroom. Johnny is still asleep when he goes back to the room, and he lets him be for a moment. He calls room service for breakfast and takes his phone to call Yuta.

“Johnny is here.” He says when the other picks up.

_“I know, I texted him the hotel’s address and I opened the door for him.”_

“What am I supposed to do now?”

Taeyong takes a sit in the border of the mattress and steals a glance at the sleepy body beside him. His heart does a twist and he finds himself smiling warmly at him. He’s really whipped.

_“Make things official, that’s it. Now if you excuse me, I want to resume my sleep.”_

Yuta hangs up before Taeyong can say something else, leaving him anxious and flustered. It doesn’t help that Johnny takes that very exact moment to wake up. He watches as the other stirs and takes a sit in the bed, rubbing his eyes and yawning before spotting Taeyong. Johnny smiles when his gaze locks with Taeyong’s.

“Good morning love, how are you feeling?”

“I have a headache, but I’m good,” he says, imitating Johnny’s smile. “Did you sleep well?”

“Marvelous.”

Johnny opens his arms in an inviting way and Taeyong crawls through the mattress to reach him. He sits on Johnny’s lap, one leg each side and hugging him from the waist, his face pressed against his shoulder, just breathing while Johnny wraps him in his arms and presses a soft kiss on his temple.

“I can believe you’re here,” the black-haired man says, a smug grin on his face.

“I missed you.”

Johnny coos at Taeyong, rocking him side to side just to have the younger pinching him on his side.

“I missed you too, and I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“For not being there with you, I guess.” The older says, shrugging.

“I should be the one apologizing, I insulted your job,” Johnny laughs and Taeyong is grateful they’re still hugging each other so he can’t see his face. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me who you were. I’m so embarrassed, really.”

“You’re honest. And the important thing is that you still came to see me, even when you hate soccer.”

“Yes, but I love you.”

Johnny pulls back and looks down at him. His eyes are widened and there’s shock written all over his face. He looks at Taeyong as if he is trying to find reassurance on his expression, and Taeyong smiles sheepishly, holding up his hand to brush Johnny’s locks.

“I love you, Johnny,” he repeats softly, only to Johnny’s ears, and before he can help himself, kisses him. It’s because of the look on his face, he decides.

“So, we’re official now?”

“Well, I guess.”

Johnny quirks an eyebrow to him. “You guess?”

“We are,” Taeyong confirms while rolling his eyes, laughing when Johnny bites his neck playfully. “Stop!”

“God, I love you a lot,” the other says and he can feel the smile on his lips even though he is not looking at his face. “Now you have to come to all of my matches.”

“I don’t love you _that much_ ,” he jokes, whining when Johnny bites him once again. “Okay I will! I’ll support you even though all you do is run after a ball.”

Johnny sits straight, looking at him with a frown and a pout. “I do not.”

“You do too.”

“I do not.”

“You do too.”

Taeyong distracts Johnny by kissing him, before he can keep on arguing. It’s too late to change his mind about sports; he really doesn’t give a damn about it.

Johnny runs his tongue carefully across Taeyong's lower lip and Taeyong finds himself responding, the other’s hand cupping Taeyong's cheek and tilting his head back to press deeper, enjoying the sensation of their mouths sliding together. Taeyong likes the way Johnny's breath puffs out of his nose against his top lip, and how Johnny is slipping his fingers up underneath his shirt and over the skin of his back.

“Taeyong?”

“Mhm?”

“I do not just run after a ball.”

  
  


 

 

ヽ｀、｀☂ヽ｀、ヽ

(+1)

 

“Oh my god, Johnny, stop it,” Taeyong complains in a hushed tone, pushing the trolley and walking away from his boyfriend.

Said boyfriend decides to ignore and just goes after him, singing even louder and using the ketchup bottle as microphone. Taeyong slaps him in the shoulder laughing silently at the elder’s lack of shame before taking the bottle from his hands and putting it back with the rest of the groceries in the cart. Two months has passed since they started dating officially and since the elder has free day before the grand big final of the British’s soccer championship, he was spending his day with Taeyong and as Taeyong has to do the groceries they’re now in the supermarket. They’re doing just fine, Taeyong don’t mind when some random stranger comes to them to ask Johnny for a picture or a sign, but the problem starts when Johnny recognizes some products on the shelves and starts singing whatever song Taeyong wrote for its commercial. By now he has sang the Chewing gum song twice and the Coca-Cola song about three times in a row.

Taeyong swears that if he has to listen to one of those once again, he would leave the taller alone.

“Ew, babe that’s gross. Here, this is better,” Johnny grins, pulling Taeyong away from the black pea’s shelf, to the one of maize’ thins next to it. “You didn’t write a song for the peas did you?”

“I did not, and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you, you’re being a pain in the ass!”

“It’s my voice right? I know I’m not a good singer, but I want to light the mood,” Johnny shows a hurt expression, and Taeyong almost falls for it. When he is about to apologize, the elder smiles and kisses his cheeks, mumbling something about how cute he is.

Taeyong pushes him out of himself, slapping his arms away and rolling his eyes, but the smile on his lips drags the other back to him. He decides to not put a fight against it, a keep on walking with Johnny back-hugging him, hanging to his body like a koala. Is it when they’re in the cereal’s hall deciding between fruit loops or normal cereal (“Normal cereal is boring,” Johnny says, putting two boxes of fruit loops on the trolley, Taeyong puts the boxes back to its place right after), that he hears a very familiar voice calling his name.

“Who’s him?” Johnny asks, seeing how Taeyong has gone stiff so suddenly. “Love?”

“That’s Doyoung,” the younger mutters and tries to hide his face with the cereal’s box, although he knows that his ex already saw him and there’s no way to avoid him. “The one I followed here, remember?”

“The one who cheated on you and invited you to his wedding?”

“That one,” he nods, peeking from above the box and cursing when he sees Doyoung closer. “If would be obvious if I run out of here?”

“Yes, he’s almost here, so straight up and say hi.”

Taeyong curses once again under his breath, asking Johnny to hide him between hushes, from the corner of his eye he sees Doyoung coming straight at him, so he turns and puts up his best smile to greet the other when is closer enough.

“Hey, long time no see!”

“Yeah, it’s been really a long,” he nods slowly, holding himself to wince at how happily Doyoung sounds and grabs the same two boxes of fruit loops that Johnny took before and puts it in the car.

“How are you?” Doyoung asks after a long pause.

“I’m good, grocery shopping and… good,” Johnny giggles on his back and Taeyong nudges him, noticing how Doyoung eyes go from him to Johnny and back to him. “How are you? How was the wedding?”

“It got cancelled.”

“Oh, that is…”

“Karma,” Johnny finishes his sentence and Taeyong slaps him in the abdomen, scandalized. “What was that for?”

Taeyong opens his mouth, but he doesn’t find the exact words he wants to say, or well, he does know what to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it without being a complete bitch to Doyoung. He was the jerk between both, after all.

 “Who are you?” Doyoung asks, ignoring the last two minutes and looking at Johnny expectantly.

“I’m Taeyong’s soon to be husband,” the now brunette man, introduces himself holding out a hand.

“You’re getting married?” Doyoung face is obviously surprised, looking at Taeyong with his caught in the lights look while shaking Johnny’s hand.

“On June,” Johnny says smugly, hugging Taeyong with one arm.

“Oh my god, well, congrats then,” Doyoung misses the lost and confused expression on Taeyong face as he hugs him and continues talking, this time turning to Johnny to shake his hand again. “I hope you make him very happy.”

“Already am.”

“Well…” Taeyong interrupts the scene clapping his hands together and looking at both man beside him. “We need to, uhm, continue shopping so…”

“Ah right, it was nice seeing you Tae. Congrats again.”

 

 

 

 

“We’re not engaged,” Taeyong says when he is sure they’re far away from Doyoung in the fruits section.

“Yes, but he doesn’t need to know that.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank u so much for reading this mess. Feedback is highly appreciated.
> 
> So, if you noticed I adressed Donghyuck as Damien once and it's bc paroxysmalirony wrote that as hyuck english name on the weekend or whatever and i really think it suits him. Just wanted to clarify that.
> 
> I apologize for any grammar mistake or typos, please point it out for me to fix it.


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